Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Now, my dear Minotaur, we’re going to take a trip to the catacombs.” I start to twist to face her, but she smacks the back of my head. “Hold still. I know what you’re about to say anyway.” Her voice drops, and she does an eerily accurate mimicry of my voice. “Hermes, I didn’t know that Olympus has catacombs.”
I open my mouth, but apparently she doesn’t need me to hold an entire conversation by herself. She answers in her normal voice. “Most people don’t know that Olympus has catacombs, Minotaur. There’s been a lot of knowledge about this city lost over the years… Unless you know where to look for it.”
30
Ariadne
I honestly expected a trap, even with Asterion’s reassurance. But when the taxi drops my brother and me off in the theater district, the street is deserted. We’re a few blocks off the main avenue that has the theater, so I suppose that makes sense. It’s the middle of the day, after all. Most people are at work, and it’s not time for the lunch rush.
I lead my brother to a strange gate between two tall buildings with the address molded into the iron of the arch overhead. The only part of the setup that looks remotely modern is the keypad over the knob. It clicks open the moment I type in the code that Asterion gave me. So far, so good. Without meaning to, my hand finds my brother’s, and I link my fingers through his. Just like we used to do when we were children and facing something scary.
I glance at him. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m not.” He gives me a brief smile. “Let’s get inside before someone else tries to kill us.”
We’re going to have to talk about the fact that our own father shot at him. Somehow that’s so much worse than him ordering me dead. At least with me, he wanted to avoid doing it himself. Icarus doesn’t look well, but I doubt I do either.
We slip through the gate and walk down a narrow cobblestone path with plants in pots hanging from the walls on either side. Most of them are dead, and the one bright-green fern I see looks fake. It creates a strange atmosphere. As if we’re entering another world. It was kind of like that when we first moved into the manor house our father bought from Hermes. He did his best to sweep away any strangeness and modernize everything, but hints of it remained. Even if I didn’t know this was a house that belonged to her, the vibe would be telling.
The door at the end of the path looks normal enough, and it opens under my hand. I can’t help tensing in response. Nothing else has gone right, so why should this? But as we step into the house, it’s cool and dark and has the energy of a building long abandoned.
“What is this place?” Icarus moves deeper into the large open room we’ve entered. I think it’s a living room, based on the shapes underneath the white sheets covering the furniture. There appears to be art on the wall, but it’s also covered. For all that, there’s not a speck of dust to be found.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “Obviously she doesn’t live here full-time.” Or at all. It’s weird, though. Because I would bet good money that if I went to one of Dionysus’s houses in the countryside, it would look like he just stepped out for a minute. He has a full staff at all of his residences, with the sole exception of the penthouse, and only because he values his privacy. He has a cleaning service come in once a week, but that’s it.
I would expect the rest of the Thirteen keep their various holdings in the same standing, ready for them at a moment’s notice. So why not Hermes? Or why not in this place specifically?
“Let’s look around.” Sandwiched between two larger buildings, the windows offer little light. Either the person who built this home has a spiteful nature, or the house was here before the apartment buildings.
We walk through room after room, finding more of the same. All the furniture is covered. In the kitchen, there are some nonperishable items in the pantry, but the fridge has been wiped clean. I stare at a can of spaghetti. “Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly.”
“Me neither.” I glance at my phone again, but not much time has passed, and I don’t have any messages from Asterion. He said he would call, not text, anyway. I don’t know why I’m checking, except yes, I do. I’m worried about him. About us. About all this. “This has all gone to shit.”
“Of course it has.” Icarus stirs, giving me a wan smile. “I would’ve liked to slip out of the city gracefully instead of running for my life, but we work with what we have. Let’s sit before you fall down.”